I Welcome Middle Age

Kansas is a fickle state, weather-wise. Yesterday was in the mid 70’s. But today dropped like brick to a cold, wet and brisk 30’s. Today’s brutal awakening to the change of season is what I typically expect for my birthday week. Yup, my birthday is approaching in just a few days. So, it’s more than Autumnal leaves that seem to be changing in my life.

Birthdays can be such a double-edged sword for women of my age. “Women of my age”…I guess that’s a polite way to own up to being middle-aged. To turning 46. But I’m neither depressed nor bitter. Frankly, despite the ever-expanding waistline, the cursed GI tract, and bad knees, I’m actually quite grateful to be here.

Life is coming along rather nicely in many ways. The path to get here has indeed been a bumpy one filled with potholes but the road is smoothing out as of late. First of all, I got a new job about a month ago that seems to fit me like a glove. What a rare treat that is! And after working hard at the last few jobs that were not ideal fits, this is especially a relief to my hubby to see me so happy- working at a job that actually appreciates and utilizes my talents. Secondly, with routines in place, everything else seems to be magically settling into place as well. The kids are doing well at school. Overall, life just seems more organized; in sync.

My approach to life has always been about survival via hard work and a sunny perspective to life’s constant challenges. But lately, it just feels like the decades of hard work and sacrifice have finally begun to pay off. So while I’ll spend my birthday flying out to Nevada for a cool work trip, my incredibly thoughtful husband gave me my Bday present early.

Because I moved around constantly in my impoverished yet colorful childhood, I have very few items remaining from those early days. One of my favorite things was a book of Alfred Hitchcock ghostly stories from when I was maybe 10-12 years old. So as I opened my early birthday gift from my hubby this weekend, there it was. In my lap in a pile of torn gift wrap was a 1st edition of my childhood favorite book that I carried around with me like a constant companion.

The tears came flooding my eyes, trickling down my cheeks. I wiped my tear soaked face as I sat quietly, speechlessly taking in this moment. I hadn’t seen that book in decades. I had only mentioned this book to my husband a few times in passing, quite some time ago, and I didn’t even name the title correctly. But I described it with such detail and emotion, my husband said he went searching for it ever since.

That book, for what ever reason, seemed to get me through so many painful times back then. Like the death of my mother at her young age of 34 (I was 14). And this beautifully thoughtful present was a reminder of many things including what a wise choice I made in marrying my husband and also of the long journey I’ve made to middle age, and how grateful I am just to be here.